Rough Edges (11 page)

“Thank
me
?” he said with a grin. “You’re the one who made dinner, which was delicious, by the way. Have I mentioned that?”

Allie giggled. “A couple of times.”

“Haven’t had lasagna in years.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she said, glancing down at the floor before looking back to him. “Hey, thanks for what you’re doing for Paige. And for me. I really appreciate it.” She didn’t go into all the ways he’d inspired her where Paige, parenting, and her own art was concerned. But someday she would.

Braden stepped closer, and just as Allie was about to loop her arms around his neck for their now standard, goodbye hug, she changed her mind. Instead, she placed her hands on either side of his face. If Braden didn’t like giving goodbye kisses that was just fine. But she did.

Quickly, before his attractive face could unnerve her, Allie pressed up on her toes, let her eyes close, and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.
Mmm.
“Goodnight,” she whispered, before pulling away. But Braden grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving any further. Their eyes locked as Braden’s hand slid over her hip. He took a step forward, forcing her to step back as he moved. With the slightest hint of a grin on his face, he repeated the action until she was flush against the wall.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled, and brought his lips to hers. His kiss was slightly longer than hers had been. And somehow, a lot more tasty. When he pulled away, Allie nearly felt as if she would pass out. She hadn’t been ready for it to end. In fact, she was just getting started.

“That was cheating,” Allie managed in a whisper.

Braden quirked a brow, but the slight lift at the corner of his lips said he knew just what she meant. “Kissing goodbye always is,” he said. “I’d much rather kiss you hello.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea. “Okay.” Allie slid from between Braden and the wall, made her way to the door, and pulled the thing open. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” That’s right. What she’d said was a challenge. He wanted to kiss her hello, did he? There was plenty of opportunity for that.

Braden gave her a nod, but to Allie, it looked more like a promise. “Tomorrow.”

After closing the door behind him, she let out a high-pitched squeal. She felt like a teenager again – a stomach full of flutters, anticipation rising in her chest, and a smile that just wouldn’t quit. She sped toward the open front room and leapt into the air like a ballerina. She couldn’t remember feeling so good. She spun in place with a definitely-silly-looking grin on her face and sighed. Paige’s music hadn’t stopped, she realized, an idea coming to mind. If the girls were still up, perhaps they could have a movie night, like old times. Sure it was a school night, but that was okay.

In seconds flat she was standing in the hallway, tapping on their closed doors in turn. “Yeah?” she heard Paige say.

“What is it, Mom?” Jillian asked next.

“Mandatory movie party is happening right now,” Allie announced.

“Huh?” Paige’s music shut off. Her door flung open.

Jillian’s was next. “Mandatory
what
?”

“Movie party,” Allie said.

Paige tilted her head. “I don’t know, Mom, it’s getting late.”

“Did you miss the part where I said it was mandatory?” Allie gave her a big grin. “And we’re having microwave mug cakes, so you better hurry.”

Jillian and Paige turned to look at one another before tearing down the hall. “I’m first,” Jillian hollered, but Paige had gotten a head start.

“Not if you get there last,” she warned.

The sound of their laughter spread down the hall as they sped out of sight. Allie gathered pillows and blankets before heading into the front room. She hadn’t done a movie night with the girls since the divorce. She’d almost forgotten all about the fun times and late nights they’d had over the years.

And as she joined Jillian and Paige in the brightly lit kitchen, close to midnight on a school night, Allie’s smile only grew. Turns out, finding her old self again wasn’t so hard after all. 

The shop felt different today. Not entirely – Braden’s surroundings were the same, his tools lined up along the wall, his latest project standing nearby. The scent of wood in the air was close enough as well. But there was an odd ticking sound lingering in the distance, a lurching click made only by the clock in his bedroom. That, along with the dim, rather gray lighting, told Braden this was only a dream. Still, he was in the woodshop on a weekday morning, waiting for Allie’s arrival; may as well sink into the illusion and see what it would bring.

He eyed the skylight overhead, wondering how close to nine o’clock it was. Why was it he couldn’t make Allie enter the scene now? It was
his
dream, after all. Why did he have to wait for time to drag on as it normally did?

With an irritated huff, Braden got to work. He felt oddly anxious today, thoughts of Allie seeming to own every move he made. He sanded the project before him with long, thorough strokes, waiting to hear the sound of her voice as she entered. See her face as she rounded the corner into his shop.

The rustle of sandpaper against the coarse grains of wood kept him from hearing her car. But the sound of the door was unmistakable; Allie usually closed it with a gentle push before calling his name over the dividing wall.

But not today. The door had barely creaked open before it slammed shut with a bang.

“Hello?” The voice was a familiar one, but it did not belong to Allie. The low voice with its tight tenor and irritated edge belonged to an old friend. One Braden would not be happy to see.

“Terrance?” The name nearly fell off his tongue.

“Bet you thought you were rid of me,” Terrance said, barreling around the corner. His eyes narrowed in on him as he sauntered into the woodshop. “Thought you could just weasel in and have her all to yourself didn’t you? Like you always wanted.”

Braden dropped the sandpaper, kicked it with his boot as he strode toward him in return. “You’re right, buddy. I did always want Allie. But I stayed back. Let you have her all to yourself, though I could have taken her from you in a heartbeat. And that’s just what I should have done.”

“That’s what
you
think. But she’s always wanted me. And guess what… she still does.”

Suddenly Allie entered the picture. “Sorry, Braden,” she said, moving toward Terrance in a slow strut. A pair of bright red stilettos matched the tiny, lingerie-looking dress she wore. She dragged a hand over Terrance’s chest, began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “Terrance is right. You never really made it clear that you wanted me. Even now I can barely tell with the way you kiss me one day but not the next. Or the next. Or the next.” She stopped there, ran her tongue along Terrance’s ear. “Terrance on the other hand…”

The sentence faded as a giant bed appeared in the shop. Yards of crimson fabric covered the canopy from bottom to top. Sheer draperies hung from the surrounding frame, while silky sheets, pillows, and blankets covered the surface. All of it matching Allie’s skimpy dress and four-inch heels.

Terrance lifted Allie off the ground and carried her toward the red mass, the sound of her high-pitched laughter filling the shop. “Like I said.
I’m
the one she wants.” He dropped her to the bed, began climbing on top of her before it all disappeared.

Gone. Nothing but blackness.

The echo of her laughter fell away too, replaced only by the lurch of a distant clock. The slow-sounding drag of one tick to the next.
A dream!

Braden forced his eyes open, shot up from the bed, and sucked in a breath of air. “Was just a dream,” he realized with a sigh. A mean one. He used his forearm to wipe the sweat off his brow, willing his blood to simmer down. It was boiling, Braden was sure of it.

He repositioned his pillow, covered himself once more with the sheets, and worked to push the nightmare from his head. But there wasn’t a chance; it was too fresh. And much too real. Behind his closed lids he could see her running a hand over Terrance’s chest. Putting her mouth on him. A vicious shiver rocked his body at the image.

Desperate, he switched sides, reached for a spare pillow and covered his head with it, hoping to at least drown out the sound. He forced his eyes shut and begged sleep to take him.
She’s always wanted me,
Terrance’s voice rang in his mind,
and she still does.

That was it. Tossing the pillow from his head, Braden reached for his cell and checked the time. Only one in the morning? Great. No doubt he was in for a night full of punishment. Even if he managed to get back to sleep – which didn’t seem likely – his mind would tread over the same groove it was stuck in now. Talk about torture. “Nope,” he said, throwing off the covers.

With a fresh idea coming to mind, Braden flicked the light switch, pulled on a pair of Levi’s, and grabbed his boots. Within minutes he had shrugged into a shirt and was headed for the stables. He prepared Gunner for riding in the glow of the full moon, anxious to work off the adrenaline rushing through his limbs. The toxic thoughts infecting his brain. 

As his trusty horse broke into a fierce gallop, the dream came to life once again. Terrance striding into the woodshop, threatening to take Allie away from him. Allie – to Braden’s horror – going along with every word. He hadn’t realized that fear before, but he had to admit – in that moment, with the nightmare fresh and sharp in his head – it didn’t seem so far fetched. After all, how many times had Allie forgiven the guy for his rotten behavior? Sure the divorce was final, but that didn’t mean Terrance couldn’t ensnare her once again.

Braden gritted his teeth. That’s
exactly
what it would mean if he had anything to say about it. No more stepping back and playing the nice guy. No more giving Allie her distance while that jackass lured her back into his trap. Braden had finally been given a second chance with Allie, and this time, she would be his. Taking things too slowly, was he? He’d change that; it was time to step things up before it was too late. Braden would make Allie his at last.

It seemed as if Gunner had settled on a resolve of his own; his rapid pace like the steady beat of a war drum – a warning to the enemy. Braden rode on the triumphant wave, fueled by thoughts of his plan for the day ahead. Once they reached the border of his land, the corner that met the Emerson’s property, Braden glanced at the house Allie grew up in, the sight of it small in the distance. How many times had he ridden out to this stretch, hoping to catch Allie on a midnight run of her own? Of course, she never did ride at night as Braden did, but he hadn’t stopped hoping for it. Nearly all of his teenage years. And even some beyond.

Braden smoothed a palm over the side of Gunner’s strong neck before giving him a few solid pats. “Let’s keep going, boy.”

A new sense of determination coursed through him as he led the horse along the bordering fence, picking up the pace once again. He hadn’t been clear enough with Allie. Sure, he was a gentleman, had never been one to rush things with a lady, but where had that gotten him before? This time he needed to let Allie know where he stood. If that poor-excuse-for-a-man ever sauntered back into her life, Braden will have already staked his claim on her.

Hours passed as he rode, drawing the pattern of his plan in his mind, a mental blue print he’d follow to a T. By the time he finally returned Gunner to the stable, the night was nearly gone. That suited him just fine.

Back in his room, Braden walked past the bed completely, stripped off his boots and clothes, and headed straight for the shower. Who knew if he’d catch a few Z’s before Allie came into work? Or if he’d simply head to the workshop once his shower was through.

Either way Braden wished he could just speed time on its course. He had something to take care of after all, and nine o’clock couldn’t get there quickly enough.

~+~

Allie pulled up to the woodshop, thoughts of Braden filling her mind. After his visit to her place last night – an event Allie had fretted over for days – she felt like a new woman. Thanks to Braden she’d gained insight on Paige’s art, as well as unique inspiration on a new jewelry line. But even more, she’d managed to get in touch with that youthful side of herself. The one who knew how to let go a bit and have a good time. Last night she’d let the girls stay up late, stayed up much later than usual herself, and threw caution to the wind where calories were concerned. As a result, she felt closer to the girls than she had in a long time. And closer to Braden too.

She was so inside her head as she entered the woodshop that Allie almost missed the out-of-place figure in the office. On the far side of the room he sat, centered in front of the door – the one leading to the house.

After a quick startle, she realized it was Braden. “Oh, hi,” she said, setting her items on the desk. She reached for the buttons on her jacket, spun to face the chair as she unbuttoned them, waiting for his reply.

It came in the steady thud of his boots on the floor, and then the feel of his hands at her back. The heavenly scent of him came next, followed by the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around her from behind. “Hello,” he crooned, reminding her of their conversation at the door last night.

He rested his chin on her shoulder, moved his hands over hers, and replaced her in the task of unbuttoning her thin jacket.

She tried to pace her breath as her arms dropped, but it sped up just the same, turning jagged and loud as he slipped off the sleeves in a slow, gentle caress. The alluring action pulling a slight moan from her throat. After removing it completely, Braden laced his fingers through hers and led her into the woodshop.

Her mind ran wild. Just what had gotten into Braden?

While she wanted to know the answer to that question, Allie was not willing to break the silence. The unspoken spell that lured her closer as they walked. He led her to a dark portion of the shop. The area, lined with a shallow bar, was set against the outside wall. A few hand-crafted stools stood nearby.

The light from the skylight never seemed to reach this part. That’s what the bulbs were for. But Braden didn’t bother turning them on. Instead he leaned against the bar, pulled Allie toward him, and set his dark, smoldering eyes on her. A brooding frown pulled at his brow while he held her gaze, his face barely visible through the low light. One hand found the small of her back, the action begging her closer even still.

Allie glanced down, slid one of her pumps between his boots, and thrilled at the feel of his legs at either side, pinning hers in place. Her body flooded with desire. Her heart raced with anticipation. All of it drowning the inquiries in her head. There was only Braden. His strong hands. His warm body. And the living, thriving beat of desire that echoed in her head. She wanted his kiss. Needed it.

As if reading her thoughts, Braden leaned in, nudged her lips once with his own, and then pressed his mouth to hers in a hot, demanding kiss. His lips were new today, strong and hungry. He’d skipped the razor it seemed, the coarse feel of his scruff pleasing her as it grazed her lips.

Yes.
The single word repeated in her head as he deepened the kiss and thrust his hand through her hair. She’d pictured kissing Braden in the workshop before, imagined how it might feel. Her answer came rushing in with the slick graze of his tongue against hers.
So good.

He moved his hands to her hips, gripping her there with a deep, masculine groan. While keeping that hold on her, Braden spun around, hiking Allie on top of the shallow bar. He nudged in against her, cupping a warm hand over her denim-covered knee, up the length of her outer thigh. She found herself gripping the fabric of his T-shirt. Not only to pull him closer, but to offset the passion racing inside. To save her from exploding entirely. Yet through the delirium of it all, a voice within her persisted. This wasn’t like Braden. Something was different about him; she should slow things down and find out what it was.

“Braden…” His name came out in a weak whisper as he moved to her throat.

“I want you, Allie,” he said against her skin before kissing her again. He encouraged her legs to wrap around him, the heat increasing with each urgent touch.

Mmm.
And just like that she was lost again. Allie wanted him too. So much that she indulged in the taste of his kiss once more. Relished the spontaneous moment of passion, his masculine scent mingling with those of leather and wood. And thrilled in the sensations he arose in her. It wasn’t until his hand moved to the top of her blouse that the inner voice snuck back in. The urgency she sensed in him a cause for concern. Braden was hurting in some way, and as good as his touch felt – and it
did
feel good – the sheer contrast worried her. They needed to talk things out.

She brought her hands to his chest, pressing him away the slightest bit, the pounding of his heart hot against her palm. “Braden,” she spoke again once her lips were free. He came back in, made his way down the side of her throat in a hurried trail of kisses.

“Let’s talk,” she said. “Please.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Allie,” he whispered in her ear.

Lose her?
Allie moved both hands onto either side of his face, tilted her head until he met her gaze in the dimly lit space. “What do you mean?” She was breathless. Nearly panting.

Braden was too. “I just…” He paused to gulp, rested his head on her shoulder, and then lifted it to run the tip of his nose along her collarbone. “I had a dream that Terrance came back.”

Allie cringed. “Okay…”

“And that you went back to him.”

“
Oh. Ick.
Braden, that would never – ”

“You gave me the impression – in the dream – that I’d been moving too slowly. That I haven’t made it clear that I want to be with you.”

She’d never witnessed this side of him. It was hard to find a word for it even. Scared? No. Not Braden.
Vulnerable.

Just as the word came to her, Braden lifted his head to meet her gaze. And there was that tormented look again, the expression just as it had been when he’d pulled her into the shadows of the shop.